


Te Amo

by WolfaMoon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Brotherly Affection, Children, Drugs, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Female John Watson, Friendship/Love, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderswap, Hurt John Watson, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Jane Watson - Freeform, Missing Scene, Post The Great Game, Presumed Dead, Protective John, Protective Mycroft, Protective Sherlock, Romance, Sherlock Holmes/Female John Watson, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfaMoon/pseuds/WolfaMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CH 1: Event After 'The Great Game." Gender Bend. Always a Female! Watson.<br/>CH 2: Before Season 2. Mrs. Holmes wants kids or to see her kids. She has to decide.<br/>CH 3: After Season 2: In English, the name Hugo means- Variant of Hugh: Heart. Mind. Inspiration. Intelligent. For Jane it means the son that Sherlock had left her behind with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Te Amo

By Wolfa Moon

Sum: Event After 'The Great Game." Gender Bend. Always a Female! Watson.

Dis: Own Nothing. Irony, Sweet and Bliss. Unfolding around. Damn Universe.

REVIEWS are LOVE. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE.

AN: I pictured Jane Watson as played by: Carla Gugino.

TA

Frozen in the chill of night we made our escape. Holding her frame close to mine. Observant as I always am. I search the dark for foes. Searching for what is out there. In the dark. Monsters in the night. A Shivering sensation I look to my weighted side notifies me that I am not alone. Even though my arm is around her I had forgotten. How could I after all she has done for me?

"Come along Jane let's get out of this weather." Nodding her head in response she looks around.

"We can't go home." She states. Her eyes looking while her teeth chatter.

"Did he rig something?" pondering what Moriarty could also have laid upon us.

"Not to my knowledge. But if I were him I would. Just in case." I hadn't thought that far. Thinking the end game would have mattered only here. But it didn't. Stopping I search around. Damn phone waterlogged and chlorine filled from the pool. Sighing into the night I realize I only have one option.

Making our way toward a telephone booth we huddle inside. There I call my archenemy.

"Mycroft, it's Sherlock I need you to pick us up." There is no response on the other end. Knowing with his eyes and ears everywhere he would get to us. Also with me collecting the call to him. I need not say more. Eyes still open I look around. Then I feel the only warmth slide away from me. The weight sliding away without me with me. Eyes looking to the pull of weight. Jane has gone limp. The cold and adrenaline fading from her system. Especially after having a bomb attached to her, kidnapping, then the pool while debris fell around us. Yes we both deserve to rest. A black car comes around the corner. Mycroft had arrived. Slipping with the weight I pulled her close. "Almost home."

TA1

My mind retraced what Moriarty had done. He had captured my one and only friend. My only true weakness. He had strapped a bomb to Jane Watson. Watching stunned to silence as she moved out. Speaking words not her own. Exposing the bomb attached to her limber frame.

Then him making her say a phrase three time.

"Te amo, Te amo, te amo." She spoke his words repeated three times.

"Stop it." She stopped still. Looking into my eyes. So much held in them. Her faith in me. Then using it. Saving her for a mere moment. So much trust. And with a simple nod I took it. The world exploded.

TA2

I woke up warm and snug. Breathing in the air I noted hints of breakfast being cooked. Specifically bacon. Removing myself from the bed I take in my surrounding. I am in my guest room at Mycroft's village estates. Taking us out of London to keep us safe. A little overkill. But that is my brother. Shuffling around to the bureau I get some cloths out. Then I feel the tug of my subconscious. I had missed something. Something important. Dressing I felt the tug. My mind running through the inventory. Going over the night in my head. My fading dream. Yet is seemed slow. Why? Bullock. My stomach rumbled. Giving up on inventory, cataloging. I moved toward the smells.

Mycroft greeted me as I entered the kitchen. Him taking his repast at the kitchen dinette.

"Morning," he acknowledges me. Then nodding toward the cook. My eyes follow.

Then is clicked. There is Jane in one of our mother's dresses. She stood in front of the range flipping pancakes. How could I have forgotten? I am such a foul. She turned to me and smiles. A bruise on her face. Then I realized what I had missed on myself. The wrapped ribs. And the wrappings around my wrist. How could I have missed such details? Well I just was blown up. I can give myself a break. Focusing on her I see she has bandages on herself as well. Yet she is cooking breakfast. Must be a coping mechanism. She smiles at me.

"About time you got up." She places a plate on the table. "I expect you to eat that up." I watch her as I take my seat. Mycroft grunts.

"They are particularly good." He smiles, flipping a page of his newspaper. "Since the villa isn't staffed till spring. I found myself not needing them." He smiled to Jane raising his cup. She smiled returning to her work. Why did I keep blocking her out? Maybe if I did continue I wouldn't hurt. Why would I hurt? Hurt her for getting her into this. For... I move without thought. Again I had been through an ordeal. Moving toward her I hug her. She stiffened then relaxes. A fading clank of cutlery from behind me. A shock to Mycroft as well. The a voice by my ear. Soft and concerned.

"You alright Sherlock?" So Doctor Jane Watson. I nod. Pulling back quickly. She eyes me. Trying to see if I had cracked. To most I have. She shacks her head. Motioning me silently to the table with a tilt of the head and a smile. So silent to maintain my front. Have a heart. She resumes to fixing breakfast. Sitting down I see my brother smiling.

"Shut up," I snark as I cut my pancake. Taking a bite my mouth fills with a wonderful texture. Pumpkin. She had remembered. Mycroft can only smile at the realization that my flat mate, friend had made my favorite kind of pancakes. Looking quickly to her I notice her movements. They are stiff. She is holding herself in a way that says injury and guarded. Turning my head from her I return to my food. I had promised her that I wouldn't deduce her. Mycroft nodded. He had seen too. Of course he did.

"Reports came in about the bombing." The clattering of a spatula hitting the floor resonates after his words. He could never be settle. Swallowing my breakfast I glare at him. She has been hurt enough. Stop. But he won't. Always trying to prove a point. And this point I knew. Didn't need reminding. Yet he deemed a lesson for me to finally learn. And apparently. Yes I do. Needed to remember Jane is a part of this. A person who feels. Who cares? Who is my friend? My only friend.

"And?"

"There were several bodies. None of them identified as James Moriarty." He flipped a page of his newspaper. "Lestrade is keeping you posted. Which reminds me," he rummaged through one of his pockets. Laying a newer version of my iphone on the table. "I took the liberty of transferring your information into this one."

"Also program to read my daily searches." Mycroft only smiled. He had. I'll get a new iphone later. This would suffice. Another 2 lay on the table next to his mug. Gathering one is his and the brand new one, Jane's replacement. Another gift. How nice of him.

Why is my brother infatuated with Jane? Maybe because I have her and he doesn't. "She did a remarkable job patching you up. Even if you were the less hurt. How is the leg my dear?" Leg? Turning my bruised body. Silently, I watch as she balances her plate and hobbles over.

"Not too bad. Clean through and true."

"You were shot." I state. My eyes traveling to the skirt covered leg. The bandage swishing against the skirt fabric. Visible now that it covered from her thigh to just below her left knee.

"We did have snipers on us." She reminds him. Like I needed it. Yet apparently I needed a lot of reminding as of recent. "They did intend to kill us." She sat and dived into her food. Pushing some bacon onto my plate. Making a meal she knew I wouldn't refuse to eat. Cleaver doctor.

TA 3

I had found one of my old packs of cigarettes. Sitting on the back patio overlooking the garden. Unlighted cigarette held in hand. Contemplating all that had passed. The weather is a bit chillier here. But quiet. Too quiet.

The back door opens and a person hobbles their way to me. Looking over I watch as Jane gingerly sits down. With the helpful balance of a hand on my shoulder. I don't brush off the contact. I accept. She sighs at the relief off her leg. Her wardrobe had gathered one of their mother's jackets as well. She catches me staring. Tugging the jacket tighter. As if to conceal her hurt and herself from view. And most important to keep her warm.

"Mycroft said I could borrow it."

"Keep it. It looks more fetching on you than her." She smiles and buriers herself into the fur collared leather jacket. Watching her. Constantly watching her. Her eyes close as the fur brushes her check. Her eyes open and look over at me.

"Sorry," she says. Sitting up straighter. "Reminds me of a jacket my mother owned." She takes a deep breath. fascinated at the only object to take in. I deduce her. Breaking a rule. Yet she doesn't have to know my thoughts. The jacket reminds her of her mother. Said with sorrow. So she must be past. And her eyes watch over the meadow behind the villa. Eyes searching for hidden enemies. Then the crinkle around the eyes shouting in pain. But no vocal. Ignoring it. The cigarette is snatches from my hand. She places it between her lips. Grabbing my jacket she reaches inside for the matches I have placed there only this morning. How does she know?

Smirking. She must have seen me snatch them from atop the fireplace. And no nicotine patches around. Old habits. How the sinner. Keeping it hidden. She strikes the match and lights the cigarette. Entranced I watch as she takes a deep inhale off the nicotine stick. Then handing it over to me.

"You don't smoke."

"Not anymore." She blows out the smoke. She smirks. How could I have missed that? Taking the cigarettes I take an inhale. Bliss. She takes it back inhaling again. She's smiling. "I feel like a teenager sneaking a smoke behind the shed." She holds the cigarette over. Instead of taking it with my fingers I lean over to take with my lips. Taking another blissful inhalation. Puffing around it. She leans closer to me. Her weight upon my side.

For a moment I let the world go. Only us. Alone on the patio watching the meadow sway in the silent chilled breeze. Smoking a hidden sin. Sharing it. Letting my mind go. When had I allowed her to take residence in my mind? A permanent fixture. Leaning back into her. I pull the cigarette away from my lips and hold for her. She takes it the same way I did. Teenagers sharing a smoke behind the shed. Wonder what else happened behind that shed.

The patio door opens quickly. Jane quickly inhales another deep breath. Burying her face down to hide the sin. I take it and smoke openly. For there is only one other person here.

"I do wish you would quit that atrocious habit." He comes over to stand over us. Mostly on Jane's side. "You should know better. Jane back me up here." She coughs. Looking up she releases her inhaled bliss. Mycroft snorts at the smell. I can only smile wider at the disgust look on Mycroft's face. But gone in a flash. He can get angry with me but not her. Curious. I hand her back the cigarette. She takes. But just holds it.

They are killers. Yet they had cheated death on several occurrences. And this would probably kill them. What a laugh. She brings it to her lips and takes another drag. Mycroft scoffs but sits down beside her. She scouts closer to me. In a gesture to make more room. Or to get space away from Mycroft. Maybe she senses my brother's advancements. And doesn't want them. Good. Handing the cigarette back I take it the same way as before. We both snicker. Our parents had caught us behind the shed.

"What?" I say around the cigarette. "We have been through an ordeal. I am allowed a small vice."

"Yes but I can't believe she is condoning this."

"Not condoning anything. Just needing a release. And this is better than shooting a wall." I scoff at her words. Holding it out for her to take a drag. She shakes her head. True we had our fun. Taking one final dreg I drop it and stomp out the embers

Watching them die away. Mycroft smiles in victory. Also nods to Jane for conceding to him. She didn't surrender she is just getting tired. Her face in buried in the fur lining of the jacket. Wondering if she had ever indulged in a fur jacket. Probably not. Having to pay fro her medical degree through military service. Mycroft watches her as she contents herself with the simplicity of fur collared. Wonder what she would do with a fur lined. Her body leans into mine more, drastically. She doesn't correct herself. The weight is a dead weight.

"Oh dear," Mycroft is moving and making a grab for her. My shock must show as I twist my bruised ribs to help. Mycroft gathers her in his arms.

"What is going on?"

"She has been active too much. She warned me of this." I watch as Mycroft lifts her up with a grunt. Making his way toward the parlor. Resting her down on the sofa. Pushing Mycroft aside I sit beside her. Opening the fur to take in her face. The bruise. The slack features. The dark circles. She looks exhausted. Beaten.

"How serious?"

"Blood loss, bruised ribs. Her injured shoulder taking an impact. Taking care of you." Mycroft lays a comforter over her. "Need I go on."

"No," looking at the hurt I had caused my friend.

"You don't deserve her." Glaring up at Mycroft I see him take a protective stance.

"I know. But she remains." Remains mine.

"We shall see." Mycroft leaves the room to work over what is storming inside of me. What is it Moriarty made her say?

"Te amo." I say aloud.

I love you.

TA 4

Silence reigned through the house. Night had fallen a short time ago. But I had no desire to move. Normally my brain would be ticking off details. Begging to be entertained. Not now. It was content to just allow us to sit and watch our friend sleep. Our friend? My friend. Butt numbing I shift.

"Sherlock?" I hear her voice ask in the dim room.

"Yes Jane I'm here."

"Good." She falls back into slumber. Delving into another unknown vice. I run a hand through her hair.

AN: I want to write more. But I have so many stories on the burner. Not sure if I will continue. Reviews help.

Picture in my mind to see Jane Watson.

www.

imdb.

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rm3061547008/

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	2. /Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Season 2. Mrs. Holmes wants kids or to see her kids. She has to decide.

Te Amo: Christmas Gala  
By: Wolfa Moon  
Summary: Before Season 2. Mrs. Holmes wants kids or to see her kids. She has to decide.  
Disclaimer: Don’t own  
Author note: I have one more chapter then I am going to stop this story. 

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Sherlock looks at the invitation. A slight rage grew in him. His family meddling with his life.  
“Did post come?”  
“Undoubtedly.”  
“Anything for me?”  
“Yes,” she comes into the living room in a robe and drying her hair. “May I have it?”  
“Not sure you’ll want it.”  
“Why more bills?”  
“No, an invitation.” She comes in snatching the letter.  
“Who would be inviting me?”  
“My mother. She is inviting you to her Christmas gala. It is her year to hold it.” Jane walks around to take a seat in front of him. He watches as she sits and her hair cascades on her shoulders. Sherlock will not admit it but after their explosive dive together and healing he has begun to watch her more.   
“So why is she inviting me? I don’t even know her.”  
“She knows of you and you are my… colleague. Also Mycroft probably mentioned you to her.”  
“And why would she care?”  
“Because I am her son.”  
“And what does one wear to a gala?” Sherlock looks at her at how relaxed she is sitting in a chair damp, waiting for him to answer.  
“A gown preferably.”  
“A gown?” She says questionable shock. Thinking to her closet upstairs which contains no gowns. The only dress she has is a summer thing and the one that was his mothers. The rest of her cloths had been lost in shipping with her service for queen and country. “Well then I should keep an eye out while I go shopping?”  
“Shopping?”  
“Yes,” she had told him her plans before.  
“What if something comes up?”  
“So do what you did before I came.” She walks back to her room to get dressed. Sherlock looks back to her. Then turning to see his own invitation on the table before him. He had gotten too used to her being there for him. Someone who is not a complete idiot.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Walking with Molly they talk and carry their bags. It was nice to have a girl friend. Someone who is just a friend and listens. Then something catches her eye.  
“Wow,” Jane stops in front of a store where there is a beautiful dress in the window. It’s a taffeta and organza a-line strapless court train evening dress.  
“That’s lovely,” Molly spoke. The two had became friends. Bonding over Sherlock and anatomy. Also Greg helping her out with giving her a job at the morgue. Earn some income.  
“Too bad I can’t afford it.”  
“Doesn’t Sherlock have money?”  
“It’s not like he gets paid to consult.”  
“Shame.”  
“Tell me about it. If I have to live off noodles for one more night I may scream.” She looks at Molly. “Do you have any nice dresses I can borrow?”  
“Uh, sure why?”  
“I have to go to a high class gala by Sherlock’s mom.”  
“Eww. I don’t know if I have anything that fancy.”  
“I don’t have any dresses.”  
“Why not?”  
“Military and really nothing to dress up for. And I am not wearing my dress uniform.”  
“Ok, I’ll see if I have anything.”  
“You are a life saver Molly.”  
“Thanks for coming out with me.”  
“I needed some girl time and away from the mad man with a crop.” The girls laugh and walk away.  
A small cc camera follows them as they walk on.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Sherlock eyes Jane as she enters their living room. His travel case resting beside the sofa. Her shoulder bag is too small for a proper dress. To small for any long term stay.  
“What?” She asks.  
“We are staying for possibly a week.”  
“That is what the carry along is for.” Sherlock then looks to the stairs where a carry along is.  
“I see.”  
“No you didn’t. Are you okay?” Sherlock looks at her. She is dressed plainly simple. Which he loves and can deduce within seconds. Also reading the nervousness radiating off her.  
“I’m fine. You don’t need to be nervous.”  
“She’s your mum.”  
“My mother is high class but she still likes the commoners.”  
“Then I shall practice my curtsey.” She jokes performing one. Sherlock gives her a half smile.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Arriving to the Holmes abode Jane can just lean against the glass of the limo to stare.   
“You grew up here?” Sherlock leans over to look at the estate.  
“Yes.”  
“Wow,” she sits back into her seat. Her family lived in a small row with a nice garden. But to have this grand a house with this much land. Sherlock can only inwardly smile at his friend’s amazement. People normally judged him upon seeing his family house.  
“Been in the family for centuries.”  
“Impressive.” The limo stops at the front door. Two men come down to open the door and get their belongings.   
With the door opened he extends his hand for Jane to get out. She takes it. Wearing a simple pair of dress pants and a nice blouse.   
“Welcome Ms. Watson.”  
“Thank you.”  
“You are quiet welcome.” Getting out she looks up. Moving to the back to get her bags.  
“I can get those.”  
“It’s alright mam, I have them.” And he did. He had all of them and headed inside.  
“Jane, come along.” Sherlock looks over at her as she tries to be her.  
“What?” Shaking her head moving with him to go up the steps.  
“Relax.”  
“You relax,” she moves to keep stride with him. Sherlock grins at her as they enter.   
There inside the hall Jane took it in. Sherlock watches his friend see his childhood home for the first time.  
“This place is bigger on the inside.”  
“It’s not a Tardis.” She has to smile.  
“Glad my shows are finally weeding their way into your mind.” Sherlock would never admit it out loud but he enjoyed the show. Especially with Jane curled up next to him on the sofa. It had become their Christmas tradition.  
“Sherlock,” a woman called from the balcony. Looking up Jane got her first glimpse of Sherlock’s mom. She descended making her way toward them.  
“Mother.” Sherlock approaches a woman of years but still in fine form. Seeing where Sherlock inherited his lithe figure from and hair. The two embrace and share a small kiss on each other cheeks. Backing up Jane feels the appraising eyes on her.  
“And you must be Jane Watson. Your photos don’t do you justice.”  
“Pardon.”   
“Mycroft,” Sherlock growled.  
“He is only keeping an eye out on you.” Sherlock moves a little closer to Jane. Mrs. Holmes smiles.  
“As long as it’s not in the lou, I’m good.” Jane steps forward to shake her hand. “It is an honor to meet you.”  
“Likewise my dear. Party starts at 6. You two can go about the grounds. Sherlock behave.” Jane has to smile at that. The woman was off.  
“She seems busy.”  
“Yes well the party is tonight.”  
“So quick tour before I have to make myself look presentable.” Sherlock looks at her. ”What?”  
“You don’t need to impress anybody.”  
“I had no intention of doing it for anyone.” Jane walks into the house more. Sherlock follows.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

After a tour through the house. Sherlock making sure she knew all the exits in order to not feel trapped. Then leading her outside to the pond and fountain. Then back to the stables.  
Inside the house they head up the stairs.  
“Well time to get dolled up.” She opens the door to her room.  
“Jane?” She looks to Sherlock whose room is further down the hallway. “Just be yourself.”  
“Aren’t I always.”

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Entering the room she takes in the glorious of it. Eyeing the queen size bed she does what any normal person would do. A quick jump and fall on the bed. She bounces as well as a box sitting on top. Turning she looks at it. No card but nicely bowed close.  
Sitting up she opens the box. Inside is the dress she had admired. Taking it out she lets the pale green taffeta organza evening gown flow down before her. Spying a mirror she goes to hold it up before her. It is beautiful and too elaborate for her.  
“I saw you admiring it. I hope you don’t mind.” Turning she holds the dress close to her chest.  
“People normally knock before entering a woman’s chambers, Mycroft.” The older Holmes brother entered the room more. “And I do mind you spying on me.”  
“You don’t like it.”  
“I do like it. But I can’t afford this.”  
“It is a gift.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you are not funded for your career choice in helping my brother.”  
“So out of the kindness of your heart you decided to buy me a dress.”  
“Well I wouldn’t want you to be underdressed.”  
“You mean seem a pauper to your prince.” Mycroft looks affronted. He had never considered her below him. He actually admires her. Yet in high standing she would be considered a pauper to those tonight if she did not dress the part. And he didn’t want Jane to be pitied and the others to stick their nose up at such a magnificent person.  
Mycroft admitted to himself he fancied his brothers flat mate. Also letting on to his mother that he felt a kinship with his brother’s only friend.  
“You are more than that.”  
“Well thank you for the dress.”  
“Quite welcome.”  
“I’ll pay you back.”  
“It’s a gift.” Why could she never trust him? Mycroft looks at the color and how her eyes shine to match.  
“Thank you.”  
“Thank me by having a dance with me.”  
“Okay.” Mycroft smiles, exiting. Smiling wider as he closes the door making his way to his rooms. Opening his door Sherlock opens his across the way  
“What are you doing?” Sherlock accuses.  
“Nothing.”  
“Doubt that.”  
“I gave Jane a present. Haven’t you ever given her anything before?” Sherlock pondered that for a moment. “Thought so. Don’t worry brother. You might actually like this one.” Mycroft closes his door.  
Sherlock retreats back into his room. He had given her things, has he? Going through his palace he sees the times he bought her food. Well places he was given free food. Helped her with her linen. Then a mug she gave him filled with his favorite tea. The constant help she gave him. He needs to remedy that.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Half an hour till party time. Sherlock tugs again at his bow tie.   
Bizz, Bizzz, goes his phone. Reaching into his pocket he pulls up the text.  
/Can you come to my room? – Jane./  
Sherlock leaves his room going to Jane’s, Knocking.  
“Sherlock?” He hears.  
“Yes.”  
“Come in.” Sherlock enters closing the door to freeze. There in the center of the room in his flat mate dressed like a princess. Her hair is down with waves bouncing at her shoulders. The noise of the door drew Sherlock to step forward.  
“You texted.” She smiles at him.  
“I can’t get the back.” She turns to show him the undone zipper. Sherlock doesn’t move. “Sherlock.”  
“Yes,” Sherlock comes over to help. His hands taking in her back. Reaching out he grabs the zipper and closes his view of her skin.   
“Does it cover?” she asks over her shoulder.  
“Pardon.” His eyes finally meeting hers. Her face is all dolled up. Her lips more red. Her eyes framed in charcoal.  
“Is it high enough?” Sherlock turns to look at her back. There are a few scars peaking out. She may have been shot in the arm and leg. Yet in order to get her to safety she had to be dragged over debris and shrapnel digging into her.  
“A few are peaking out.” She turns to him.  
“Not like I can hide all of them.” She motions with her left arm. Sherlock looks down. His hand taking her arm in his hands. Finger grazing over the puckered bullet scar. Tracing around to feel the exit wound.  
“You are a soldier.”  
“I am. Can you tie these?” She motions with the straps. He takes them and begins to tie them into bows.  
“You could of asked one of the staff to help you.”  
“I’m not use to a staff. Also I trust you.” She turns so he can tie the other side. Sherlock watches as she backs up and twirls for him. “What do you think?”  
“It’s beautiful.”  
“I think so too.”  
“Where did you get it?” She steps toward him. Her hands going to tie his bowtie. The man always open collared now being forced to look decent.  
“Mycroft bought it for me.” She huffs. “He must of saw me admiring it when I went shopping.” Sherlock reached up to still her hands.  
“Mycroft?”  
“It’s not like I can afford this dress on my pension.” She points to a hanging glittery blue cocktail dress. “I borrowed that from Molly.”  
“You don’t have dresses.”  
“Never needed them.” She smiles as she straightens the bow tie. “Perfect.”  
“You could have asked.” He hated that Mycroft bought his friend a dress. Ever since that day he began to pay more attention toward her. Seems his brother is too.  
“Asked what?”  
“I take you for granted.”  
“You do at that.”  
“I should have bought you a dress.” She looks at him funny.  
“Are you okay?”  
“I’m fine. Are you ready?”  
“No, but do I have a choice?”  
“Stay close to me.”  
“Where else would I go?” He looks at her. “You’re the only one I know here.”

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

The party had started 10 minutes ago. Guest had arrive from then to an half an hour before the actual start. Mycroft greeted people alongside his mother and father. People making small chat around the foyer.   
Mycroft was speaking to his mother when he froze, looking up. Mrs. Holmes stares at her son then follows his gaze. There at the balcony is Sherlock with his friend. His girl friend that is looking like a princess. Other people are looking at the duo as they descend.  
“She cleans up nice.”  
“She always looks nice.” And there it is. Their mom seeing that the girl means something more to her boys. Her boys fighting over who will get the last piece of chocolate cake. Then she sees Sherlock who is holding her arm close to him. His toy and not Mycroft’s. Even if Mycroft dressed her up.  
“So should we go to the ball room?”

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Jane sticks close to Sherlock as they parade around the attending. Sherlock leaning over to divulge what he had deduced about those here. Laughing silently as he told her about the kinks of some of the higher ups.   
“So how do those work? Dancing? Dinner?”  
“We social for an hour, eat, dance and whatever entertainment my mother has acquired for her festivals.”  
“What has it been in the past?”  
“Last years were acrobats, the year before fireworks, Sting.”  
“I look forward to the entertainment.”  
“I thought it would be the food.”  
“I’m not a glutton.”  
“No, you are Jane Watson.”  
“Charmer,” grabbing a flute of wine she walks in more, smiling.   
Sherlock watches her mingle. Talking up with a man in his dress uniform.   
“She does make an impression.” Sherlock scoffs at Mycroft’s observation.  
“Yes you do pick out such nice dresses. Did you get one for yourself?”  
“Ha, no, she picked out the dress. You should really pay her for your time.”  
“She does fine.”  
“No she doesn’t. Not really.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“I bought her the whole outfit because she has no outfit to fit in here.”  
“Just because she is wearing it does not mean she likes you.”  
“She tolerates me. Just wait till she sees the other gown I bought her.”  
“Why are you buying her cloths?”  
“Cause mother is having another event tomorrow night. Since you two are going to be here, you’re welcome.”  
“Jane would tell me such things.”  
“She may have tried but you still don’t pay full attention to her. She needs someone to admire her all the time.”  
“Why are you butting in on my life?”  
“It’s not your life, it’s hers.” Mycroft moves off to go talk to another man of state. Then makes his way to a couple that Jane was discussing something with. Sherlock bristled as Mycroft worked his way in beside her. Replacing her flute of champagne. She smiles a thank you to him. Then they talk.  
“She’s lovelier than I pictured.” Sherlock looks at his mother.  
“You’ve seen pictures of her.”  
“Yes Mycroft was very thorough in his background check on her. She is impressive. Someday she’ll make someone a good wife.”  
“She’s …” he didn’t really want to out his friend to his mother. “Unique.”  
“Well Mycroft fancies her.” Sherlock glares at his mother. “He does. I can hear it in the way he speaks about her.”  
“She is my friend.”  
“Yes you two always fought over the strangest thing. About time it became a grownup fight.”  
“Mother?”  
“The both of you fighting over a girl. That is good. Catch up with you later Sherry.” Patting his hand she is off to go mingle. Returning his gaze to his friend she has moved off to a balcony. Moving he goes to her.  
“Enjoying the party, “ he asks her as she breaths in the twilight air.  
“It’s interesting.” She turns to look at him. “Some of the people are high military. And then there are some who are royals. Well nine away from.” She huffs. “I feel so out of place.”  
“You seem to hold up well.”  
“Mycroft is helping me mingle with the higher ups. He introduced me to the Duke of Gloucester.”  
“That had to be dull.”  
“It was interesting. But Mycroft needs to back off. I’m grateful for the attire but he doesn’t have a hold on me over it.”  
“He’s crowding you?”  
“I think in his eyes he is protecting me.”  
“From what? I can do that.”  
“You lead me toward danger, Sherlock, more times than most.”  
“Do you wish to stop?”  
“Hell no.” She finishes her flute of champagne. “Your mother is springing for the good stuff.”  
“Yes she inquired upon me on such a thing.”  
“After the different types of tea?” She smiles while he glares at her. Changing to a smile he finishes his.  
“We should rejoin the party.”  
“Do we have to?”  
“You don’t want my mother getting any ideas.”  
“Yeah, she is not planning my wedding.” Grabbing Sherlock they walk back into the room.   
People have ignored them or some would look at, point. Finding a corner for Sherlock to observe and tell her all the entertaining secrets.   
They two kept drinking and laughing. Then came dinner. Seating arranged. Looking for her spot it is placed between the two Holmes boys. This did not go unnoticed.   
“So Mycroft,” a high official looking man spoke to him. “This is your famous brother.” Mycroft swallowed his bite before answering.  
“Yes this is my brother Sherlock and his assistant Jane Watson.”  
“Ah, the blogger. Your writing is quite entertaining.” Jane takes a drink of her wine.  
“You should be there.” The man raised his glass to her.  
“So Ms. Watson, are you and Sherlock together?” Jane wants to do a spit take.  
“It is a common misconception.” Sherlock informs the woman. “Jane is my friend.”  
“His only friend.” Mycroft informs her.  
“And you have none,” Jane adds. Her eyes glare at Mycroft. Mycroft glares at her. The challenge and fire. People have gone quiet.   
“I have one.”  
“Maybe.” She counters.  
Dinner continues.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

After dinner mostly everyone is blitzed. More or less. People started dancing to the band his mother hired. A cover band of the Beatles but one of the best. Jane was asked to dance several times. She danced with some of them but was shocked when Sherlock began to dance with her. His hand glancing against her scares. Their eyes meet.   
How had he been a fool. In his arms now he feels the most at home he ever has. Looking at her. He smiles. She leans into him. The warmth of their bodies. Holding her tight so she doesn’t slide away. Since that night when she did slide away he kept a grip on her.   
“May I cut in?” Sherlock looks to his brother. Jane steps back. There is Mycroft before them. “Well?” Jane looks to Sherlock.  
“Sure you can dance with your brother.” Jane backs up. Mycroft laughs but bows to her. Nodding she allows Mycroft to dance with her. Sherlock stiffens.   
“So Mycroft, trying to make your brother jealous,” Jane ask as they spin.  
“Trying to make him see.”  
“See what a big douche you are?”  
“Jane you think so little of me?”  
“No, you are a good man when you want to be. Right now you are being a prate.”  
“True.” Leaning down to talk into her ear. “I just want my brother to be happy.”  
“And you think with me he would be happy.”  
“He already is.”  
“There is always someone better out there.”  
“You love him.” She backs away from him. “It is not a bad thing.”  
“You’re jealous.”  
“I have a right to be.” She looks at him. Looks at him.  
“May I cut in?” Sherlock breaks the two up taking Jane back into his arms.   
Mycroft sighs moving to stand by his mother.  
“You should watch where you start fires, my son.”  
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”  
“Your brother and his friend.”  
“They are a good team. “  
“You see more there than what is being seen.”  
“A good push.”  
“A push indeed.”  
The party continues. The band performs more songs. Fireworks are fired. Acrobats fill the air above them. It is a truly amazing night.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Sherlock had escorted Jane to her room. She had drank a good amount. Helping her get settled she grabs him, pulling him onto the bed. She laughs at her antics.  
“Jane,” he scolds. Trying to get her arms from around his neck.  
“Don’t leave me.” She moans holding onto his hand.  
“I won’t.”  
“You won’t fall.” Sherlock looks at his blitzed friend.  
“Fall?”  
“I see you falling and I can’t catch you.”  
“I’ll land on my feet.”  
“Too far.” Sherlock pulls the covers up and sits beside her. Always wondering how her mind worked. Mostly she remained tight lipped. Letting out her wonder at his deductions.   
“Jane?” Sherlock moves in. Always wondering about her. Leaning in he kisses her gently on the lips. They are softer than he thought. He has seen them chapped and blue with cold. Now they are warm, soft and red  
The arms come around his neck pulling him in for more.  
“That is nice.”  
“Jane, you are drunk.”  
“No, I am partially drunk. You are sober. “  
“And we should not do something we will regret.”  
“Then just stay. We can do the other later.” Sherlock watches her lay back down on the pillow. So much like the time after the explosion.   
Tucking her in he lays, sits beside her. Standing guard over her. His brother had informed him on all the times that she has done such for him. 

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Exiting her room in the early morning he glares at his brother.  
“Finally crossing that barrier of friendship?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to hope.” Moving to go into his room.  
“Mother is having another gathering tonight. I hope nothing has to be pressed.”  
“Why would she be having another gathering?”  
“Not often she gets to show off both of her sons. Also these are more of her higher end friends.”  
“You mean friends she must impress.”  
“Yes, I hope Jane has another dress.” They both knew the only dress she had as the borrowed.  
“I knew you played with Barbie’s. But she is not one of your toys.”  
“And she is not yours either.”  
“What are you planning?”  
“Not me, mother. She wants grandchildren.”  
“So she intends to set me up?”  
“Unless you have somebody already in mind.” Sherlock gives Mycroft one final glare before entering his room.  
Mycroft smiles at his victory. Already dressed and pressed he makes his way to Jane’s room. Stopping he knocks.  
“Too early.” He hears groaned through the door.  
“Jane?” then he hears the thud and the door open a crack. Her hair is everywhere.   
“What is it Mycroft?”  
“Wanted to inform you of my mother’s other party tonight. Do you need anything pressed?” The door closes. Then it opens. A hand is thrust out with the dress she wore. Mycroft takes it with a smile. The door slams shut with a thank you somewhere muffled in the thunk.  
Smiling he carries the dress to the stairs and down the steps. His mother carrying flowers looks at him.  
“It is defiantly not your color.”  
“No, but Jane looked wonderful in it.”  
“Is that the only gown she has?”  
“She is not from money mother.”  
“I know this. Maybe I can lend her one of mine.”  
“Don’t. I already acquired another one for her.”  
“Not all woman want to be dressed by a man. Especially one who fancies her.”  
“I was going to get it pressed. Do you need anything cleaned?”  
“No, I will get her some dresses to try on.” Mycroft watches his mother set her flowers in a vase. His mother seeing through him. 

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Sherlock came outside to see Jane walking the grounds. Everything different from the city. It hasn’t been like this since they escaped with their lives. Sure life had moved on once they came back home. Yet to see her in the quiet again.   
Casual in normal cloths. The remnants of the party being cleaned up.   
“Jane?” she turns to look at him.  
“Morning.”  
“Afternoon.”  
“Guess it is.” They move toward one another.   
“My mother had some of her dressed laid out in your room.”  
“That is very nice of her.”  
“Mycroft I gathered bought you another gown.”  
“Damn Barbie doll.” She growled. Sherlock smiles at the deduction he had given as well.  
“Do you ride?”  
“What?” Sherlock smirks at her. Sometimes even with the world still turning. You need to live a little.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Violet Holmes watches her son be free with his friend. Amazed at how her shut in of a son is so free to be with this woman. Hoping tonight Sherlock will see her truly and act on it. Give her some grandchildren to spoil.  
Looking at the dresses on the bed. Most of them red. And one that is lavender. Her son didn’t have many favorite colors beside black and clear. Yet knows he has a fancy for lavender. Setting up her own chess pieces on Mycroft’s board. Knowing her moves are even more masterful then her elder sons.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Sherlock dressed again in his tux. Hating his bow tie. Even if Jane loved them. Stupid TV fanatics. Then walking down to his friend’s room. He knew his mother has plans for him. It will be fun tonight to tell Jane all the secrets he learns.  
Entering her room without a knock a vase is thrown at him. Looking startled he sees Jane there in her knickers.  
“Oh,” she stands up straight. “I thought you were Mycroft.”  
“Has he tried to,” enter.  
“Not since I warned him yesterday. Doesn’t mean he might forget. “  
“Of course.” Closing the door he steps into the room. Seeing the red dresses strewn nicely over a sofa. “I need you to do this bow tie again.”  
“Of course give me a moment.” Turning away from her he can hear her rustle some cloths on. “Ok,” he turns to face her. It is another beautiful dress. This one was one of his mothers. He could tell by the class of this one. Elegant yet stylish, lavender. “Is something wrong?” She twirls around.   
“No, um,” he groans internally, mother. “You look nice, lovely.”  
“Thank you,” she steps into his personal space. Fixing the bowtie. “I believe this is one of your mother’s. She does love red.”  
“Those are all of her red dresses.”  
“Why does she want me in red?”  
“It is a seductive color.”  
“Or maybe she wants to see me dead.”  
“Doubt that.” Jane smirks at him. Sherlock can only smirk back.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

He remembers taking her arm and heading downstairs. Taking a drink from the waiter. Them both sharing a toast. But to explain his current predicament he is at a lost of words. Looking to see Jane lay naked next to him. The smell of past exertions still in the air. Looking down at his own unclothed state. The dried remnants of the their deeds. What had happened?  
“Jane?” he croaks. She moans pulling the sheet up further. Flipping over to move the sheet from her gently. Taking in her curves, her scars. Running a hand down them. Knowing them now. He had traced them last night. “Jane!?” He speaks with more urgency. She turns over.  
“What? Sherlock?” She looks at his nakedness. “Did we?”  
“Apparently.”  
“Was it good?”  
“What do you remember?” Sherlock needs the details.  
“We went downstairs. We drank. I remember eating some appetizer that I made you eat. Then, now.” She sits up. Sherlock looks at the hicky on her neck. “Did we get drugged?”  
“Apparently.”  
“Are we the only ones?”  
“We should find out.” They both share a look.  
“Shower,” they say together.   
“I’ll go to my room.” She collects the dress putting it on.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Opening the door Mycroft looks around before opening it further. A waitress left his room.  
“You dog you.” Mycroft looks up startled at Jane who is in her dress from last night.  
“Um, I, I.”  
“You don’t remember either.”  
“What happened?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“I believe we have a mystery on our hand.”  
“Is Sherlock up?”  
“Shower, your mother?”  
“Mother?” the two share a look before going to the master bedroom. Entering they find her asleep in bed.  
“Mother?” Mycroft moves to her side. She smiles sitting up. Then her eyes move to Jane.  
“I thought you went with Sherlock.” Jane just looks at her then to the shadows of the room. “But Mycroft is not bad either.” That gets both of their attention. “What?”  
“I was with Sherlock. Mycroft got lucky with a waitress.”  
“A waitress?”  
“Mother what did you do?”  
“I gave you something to loosen you up.”  
“Great, I’m out of here.” Jane charges from the room. Mycroft hears her open a door.  
“Your mother drugged us. Call us a cab.” She slams Sherlock’s door. Then there is a second door open and close.  
“How could you mother?”  
“I know your brother is slow with relationships.”  
“And he finally has one. You can’t go ruining that.”  
His mother’s doors opened again to reveal a rather naked Sherlock wet from his shower.  
“Don’t ever contact me again.” Sherlock turns around. 

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

Back home in Baker Street. Sherlock appraises his real home to the one he grew up in. This has all he needs. And it has.  
“So are we going to talk about what happened or let it be a one off?” Sherlock looks at her. His addled mind looks at his disheveled flat mate.  
“I don’t.”  
“No you wouldn’t.” She comes forward kissing him. Then stands back from him. “Anything?” she looks in his eyes for anything. He is doing the same. “Guess not.” She moves off to take a shower.  
Sherlock looks up to where is she is. His mind didn’t like the cloud that the drug presented. He wanted to remember. Wanted to know what it was like be with her. To have a clear memory. Taking off his cloths he goes up to join his flat mate in the shower.

/Te Amo: Christmas Gala/

 

Season 2 here

My prompt:   
A box at Sherlock’s house. The dress Mycroft bought it. And the two boys fight for her while dancing. Finally breaking up to dance with a young woman who seems sad at something.


	3. Chapter 3

Dress 1

# Taffeta And Organza A-line Strapless Court Train Evening Dress inspired by Taylor Swift

Dress 2

# Brilliant Lavender One Shoulder Bodice Ankle Length Evening Dress

MY JANE WATSON


	4. Hugo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Season 2: In English, the name Hugo means- Variant of Hugh: Heart. Mind. Inspiration. Intelligent. For Jane it means the son that Sherlock had left her behind with.

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

By: Wolfa Moon

Summary: After Season 2: In English, the name Hugo means- Variant of Hugh: Heart. Mind. Inspiration. Intelligent. For Jane it means the son that Sherlock had left her behind with.

Disclaimer: No Own. And this is done.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Sherlock stood a distance away and watched. Not believing what his brother had told him. He had run away to protect his friends, his family. And in protecting them he had missed out on the added addition to his family. Watching her sit on a blanket feeding a toddler.  The baby crawling to the edge of the blanket. She reaches over tickling his feet. Not wanting to believe what his brother had informed him off.

Then watching Greg move in to crowd over Jane and tickle her. Them all giggling in a picture of the perfect family. Then the inspector sits to join them. Something inside him hurts watching this. Not knowing what it is. He had protected them. Yet seeing what he really sacrificed. Fading back behind the tree.

What he didn’t see was the eyes of Jane who had thought she had seen him. Thinking her imagination had gotten away from her again. Then turning to Greg.

“So can you babysit tonight?”

“Thought Mycroft was going to get someone to watch him.”

“Like I would trust him after what he did.”

“Yet you are meeting with him.”

“Business only. He helps support us on my meager salary.” Greg nods. He had helped ever since Sherlock had died. Seeing the hole that Sherlock had left in his death and departure. Sad that the man never got to see his son. “Hugo and I will have a good time watching the game.”

“Raise him right.”

“Of course.” Greg saw it then. The sadness. Trying to help fill her void. Yet in turn she had help fill his void left by his divorce and the sharing of his kids. Then that look came over her face like she had seen him but not. Then the mother mask comes on all smiles for her son. Sherlock is a right bastard for leaving her.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/ The Fall**

 

She hadn’t told anyone. Feeling fine and motivated. Just not hungry in the morning. Getting a little winded. Then seeing the way he is with her, Irene Adler. He had seen her right away. Yet Jane as an after thought. Taking it in stride. What did she expect. They had a drunken interlude. Then another to make up for his words. And another to make up for what he did to her in the lab.

Then just a day where everything fell into sync. Everything came together. The mood swings. These feelings. Then a simple test explained it all. Didn’t have a chance to tell him. Yet watching him fall. His note. She fell as well.

Almost losing her last connection to Sherlock. Waking up in a hospital with Greg sleeping in a chair beside her and Mycroft in another reading the morning papers.

“He’ll never know,” she spoke at last to Mycroft. Mycroft looks at her. Sad eyes meeting sad eyes.

Life began again. Her pieces picked up placed around her son. Moving out of Baker Street. Too many reminders. Yet it didn’t stop Mrs. Holmes to come to the city to try and advise her on staying at Baker Street. Let her take care of them. Rage had built in her. Because of Mycroft, Sherlock is dead. Now mother wants in on her grandkid. Jane has other plans.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Sitting in the restaurant she runs her hands over her purse. Her purse holding her lifeline to her son. Greg is great with Hugo. He will be safe for an hour. Yet the protective mother inside her always cares over her young. Also the bag is a lot smaller then the backpack with baby supplies in it.

Then there is the lateness of, Mycroft that is rare. They had met several times over the years without Sherlock. Mostly Mycroft wanting to meet his nephew. He is never late. Looking at her watch she sees the minutes tick on. Getting up she turns to leave then freezes.

Shaking her head she doesn’t want to see the deception before her. Another wannabe. The groupies who believed her. Who still follow her. Who believe in her last post

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

_My friend is dead. Or so the world hopes. Yet he could never die for he is beyond what his mortal shell could ever grasp to hold._

_People may call him unsavory things in the days to come._

_Sherlock is innocent. The man Moriarty is the villain. No matter how the media plays it or wants to see it. Sherlock is a great man and should be remembered as such._

_For he is my friend and his legacy should remember him as such._

_And I stand firm the Sherlock is innocent and still out there._

_Maybe someday he will return._

_Just not in the way one thinks._

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

“Bastard,” she moves toward the man who dared to grace her presence. Opening his mouth to acknowledge her it is slapped shut. “Leave me alone.” She exits the bar.

Sherlock stands their stunned and slightly in pain. She didn’t hold back on her slap. He had truly done wrong. Turning he exits to see her walking down the street. A car following and her talking, screaming at the occupant. Knowing his brother that he is keeping an eye out on his friend.

“Jane,” he calls to her. She ignores him. Yet she glances at him before running across the busy street to grab a cab. Sherlock walks up to his brother’s car.

“I don’t understand.”

“You have been away for two years.”

“And she has moved on with Lestrade. Lestrade of all people and procreating. Hope they named him something interesting.”

“Her son’s name is Hugo.”

“Hugo, such a egotistical name.”

“It means, mind, intelligence.”

‘The child will need it with that gene pool.”

“I think the boy is made up of a good gene pool.”

“Get off. You still fancy her.”

“True, but I also know the father.”

“Lestrade,”

“Is not the father.” Sherlock looks to his brother then he sees it.

 “No, it can’t. We did, but. She?” Sherlock is at a loss for words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me?” Sherlock glares at him. “You wouldn’t have.”

“So what do I do now?” Mycroft smiles.

“That’s for you to deduce brother.” Mycroft drives off.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

“He’s alive.” She blurts outright to Lestrade as she enters her humble home. Hugo is asleep on Greg as she enters. Greg watching her pace before him.

“He’s alive?”

“Yes, the gall of him to walk in like he wasn’t dead and everyone knew except me.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know, I just.” She sits down. Running a hand on her sons back.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you need me to stay?” She smiles at him. He had been a rock to her adrift lightening struck tree.

“I would but you have work as do I.”

“Jane, you know I have no problem staying. I stay here more than I do my own flat.”

“We need to get you a girlfriend.”

“You too.” They both smile at one another. The two had shared in their sorrow. Jane had become the lady on his arm at events. Yet everyone knew she is Sherlock’s. Even the fanatics making it known with slurs on his car and emails.

“What girl would date a single mom?”

“What woman would want a workaholic detective?”

“In another lifetime I would.”

“Cheers on that life.” Lestrade moves Hugo to Jane. “I should go.”

“I’m sorry Greg.” Greg leans over giving her a kiss.

“We still have Paris.” She smiles at the movie reference.

“Good night.”

“Night.” Lestrade sees himself out. Knowing he would never take the place of Sherlock Holmes. But he would take what he can get. Jane gives him a lot.

Outside he sees Sherlock.

“You are a right git.” Going to stand before him. “You should have contacted her.”

“I couldn’t put her life in danger.”

“Oh you did that by dying in front of her.”

 Sherlock looks at him.

“She fainted and almost gave up. Almost aborted Hugo.”

“You care for them.”

“Of course I do. He is my godson.”

“And who is the godmother?”

“Mrs. Hudson.”

“Good choices.”

“Yeah you should learn from her example. Night Sherlock.” Lestrade walks away. Jane’s anger becoming his. If she would have him he would do it. Almost there too. Then Sherlock comes back into her life.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Sherlock waits outside her flat the next morning. Getting a coffee, black, for her.  Then remembering her favorite orange cranberry scone. The stroller unfolds before her. Then turning she picks up the carrier and placing it on. Turning for work she heads off. Sherlock runs to her.

“Jane, please.” She ignores him still walking. Then they reach a traffic light. “I got you a coffee.” She glares at him. Then he holds out the bag. “Orange cranberry scone.”

“I don’t like them.”

“Sure you do.”

“I was pregnant and developed a citrus allergy. I can’t stand them.” The signal went. She went. Sherlock followed like a lost puppy. Arriving at daycare she enters. Sherlock sliding in.

“Who’s this?” the receptionist asked.

“Somebody who is not allowed to pick up Hugo.”

“Add him to the list?”

“Please.” She begins to lean over and give her son kisses. The little man sleeping on the way over.

“What list?” Sherlock asks. Looking to her then the receptionist then to Jane who had finally picked up her, their son. “Is Mycroft on the list?”

“Your mother is too.” Sherlock nods, understanding.

“I bet Greg can pick him up.” Jane stiffens before going through another door. A security guard steps through to block his path. Sherlock sizes him up and thinks better. Even if a good shot to the kidneys would incapacitate him.

Stepping back he waits for Jane. Coming back the stroller has been folded up and placed on the rake by the door.

“Thanks, Evan.”

“Bye Ms. Watson.” Jane exits, Sherlock follows.

“So Gavin?”

“Greg, and yes. How else do you think I got by being a single mom? He is there for me, us.”

“So you and he?”

“And what if we were it’s…”

“None of my business I know. But really.”

“You thought Hugo was his didn’t you.” She stops before she goes down to the tubes.

“I did.”

“It was better when you were dead. I am not a toy Sherlock. Grow up.” She descends leaving him there to just wonder. Then realize he had destroyed something wonderful. Yet she needs to understand. Let him explain.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Sherlock followed her all day. Well as far as he was allowed. Sitting in a small café he watches Jane sit with Greg at a bench outside.

“Jealousy does not become you, Sherlock.”

“You should have told me.” Sherlock growls at his brother.

“Would that of changed anything?” Sherlock looks over at her. She is handing Lestrade a sandwich. He should be there. “Greg is a good man. He helps her out where I can not.”

“So you have been keeping a well tuned eye on her?”

“Of course. Especially for Hugo.”

“What is he like?” Mycroft takes a deep breath. Though to what he should let his brother believe. He had been helping out more than from the shadows.

“Small.” Sherlock glares at him. “He is a baby Sherlock. He clings to Jane as if she is the best thing on earth.” Mycroft had to silently agree to that. “Has a good laugh. Loves Thomas.”

“Thomas?”

“A show about trains. Really loves it.”

“And you do too.” Mycroft has to huff at that.

“Well it is simple and the toys are easy to pick up.”

“I bet you got him all of them.”

“It is the small things.” Mycroft looks as Greg gets them coffee sitting beside her.

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Mycroft.” Mycroft smiles.

“Then maybe you should of told her.” Sherlock glares at him. Mycroft knew that he couldn’t he had to deal with Moriarty. Had to save her. If Moriarty’s people found out he had a son. She would be in more danger. The target would go right back to her.

“So what do I do?” Mycroft looks at him.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Jane stopped her walk down the street. Looking over her shoulder then walking. She hates this feeling. Looking up at a CCTV she knows Mycroft has an eye on her. Knows she is somewhat safe. A slight security she would never acknowledge.

Two people are walking toward her. She needs to get home. Needs to stop and breath. Pulling out her phone she wonders whom she should call. Her mind going quickly to Sherlock but he probably has a new number.

Sending a text. He prefers text.

**/Somebody following – JW/**

“Greg?” stopping in the middle of the block. Greg always picked up on the first ring for her.

“Jane?”

“I’m being followed.”

“Are you sure it’s not Mycroft again?”

“Not his class of criminal. “

“Where are you?”

“I was a block away from Hugo. I turned.”

“Understood. Anywhere to go?”

“Um,” she looks up at the fire escape.

“Possible, but if I do I have to hang up.”

“Do it.” Hanging up she runs to the fire escape. Using a little pakour she uses the wall to reach the ladder. Her skills still up since Sherlock and having Hugo. Down she climbs. Climbing up to the roof. Then she runs.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Sherlock looks at his text. She texted him. She, he read is again. Grabbing his coat he is off. He doesn’t really know where she is at but if it is the same path from her work to get Hugo he knew. But it was slow from his spot across from her flat.

Quickest route. His head working. Jumping to reach the ladder he goes up. Making his way there.

Then he sees her. She is leaping from one roof to another. Leading away from Hugo. Then his breath catches as she jumps the biggest of gaps between buildings. She has too.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

They had followed her up and over. Need to lead them away. She’ll jump the overage if it keeps him safe. Oh no, she makes the leap but her foot skids on the edge. She begins to fall but someone grabs her. Looking up in shock she sees Sherlock.

Sherlock pulls her up over the edge.

“Are you alright?”

“No time, move.” She huffs pulling him along. They don’t wait for the criminals. Far enough away they get themselves down. Sherlock watches her bend in half as they make it down.

“Are you alright?”

“I think I bruised a rib or two.” She straightens. “You came.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” shaking her head she walks toward the street. Then a black car pulls up. Mycroft stepping out.

“Jane?”

“Late as always Mycroft.”

“Do you need a lift?”

“It will be rather tight.” She looks back to Sherlock who is coming toward them.

“I see.”

Then there is a police car at the end of the block. Greg getting out and running toward them.

“Jane, are you alright?”

“Yes, Hugo?”

“Sally is there.”

“Thank you.”

“Always.” The four look from one another. “Mycroft, Sherlock.” Greg acknowledges them.

“Hello Greg.” Mycroft nods. Sherlock observes the three of them. Mostly the body language between his brother and the inspector.  The way they stand with their teeth silently bared at one another. Both wanting to stand by her and protect her. How noble. “Do you know who was following you?”

“Hired thugs I gather. They move like it but they are determined so must be getting paid well.”

“So who would go after you?” Greg wonders. She looks to Sherlock.

“Maybe people know Sherlock is back in town. It’s not the first time I’ve been used as bait for him.” She looks at her watch. “Damn, I need to get Hugo.”

“Let/we’ll/let me.” Were all spoken at once by all the males around her. Shaking her head she looks to Sherlock. He had just saved her life, again. There was still tension but she is maternal.

“Sherlock, walk me. Greg you should go back to work. Thank you for coming.” Lestrade looks at them before nodding to her. Knowing she will be safe.

“Always. Call you later.”

“Yes, night.”

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

“Night.” He walks back to his car. She looks at the brothers. Mycroft is standing there tall and proud like always. Sherlock is standing there just staring at her.

“Mycroft your timing is getting worst. I suggest you look over your cameras to identify who was following me and identify them, please.” Mycroft glares over at his brother. Sherlock does not acknowledge him. Yet he is listening.

“It will be done. Sorry for my tardiness. It will not happen again. Night Jane, Sherlock.” He gets back into his dark car.

Sherlock waits for him to drive off before looking at her, smiling.

“You have my brother whipped. I should take some lessons from you.”

“I’m his only female, unpaired, and unthreatened, friend.”

“So you’re friends?”

“It happens, sort of. He is Hugo’s uncle.” Sherlock looks away then to her. “I need to get Hugo.” She begins to walk away. “You coming?” Sherlock quickens to catch up.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Getting her son is easy. Entering her flat Sherlock takes in the section set up for her son. The toys are overflowing enough for two children. Then the new plasma on the wall with a sofa in front of it. Looking very homey.

“We’re home, Hugo.”

“Tom?”

“Okay, in a bit.”

“Tom?” Sherlock asks watching her lift Hugo out of the stroller. Setting him down on a play mat. She collapses the stroller making room. Then going to the kitchen to get food and drink. Sherlock watches as Hugo makes little train noises while pushing the train on the ground. “Tom?” he asks again a little louder.

“Cho, Cho, chug, Cho, what woeeee.” Hugo makes the noises shunting up Thomas with Percy. Sherlock watches his son play. His son. Taking in the boy he see the hair is dark. The nose is his but the lips are hers. The eyes a pale piercing sky blue.

“Ok, dinner.” Sherlock looks up to see her holding a tray. There are two cups brewing tea. Then a bottle and yogurt.

“Kind of meager.”

“I ordered us food this is his. And Tom is Thomas the tank engine.”

“Yes, Mycroft mentioned.” Setting the tray on a coffee table, she cringes. “Jane?”

“Bruised ribs, remember?”

“Yes, I’ll get Hugo.” Sherlock gets up to pick up the baby. People may not know but Sherlock does know how to pick up a child. Well spent a whole day reading up on techniques and things. But he knows. “So how?” he watches her as she begins to feed their son. “Jane, I…”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just let me get him fed and ready for bed.” Jane focused on her son. She would deal with the bigger kin in a minute.

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

Watching from the door Sherlock observes their ritual before bed. Then he hears her sing.

“ ** _Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!_**

**_The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;_ **

**_The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,_ **

**_And bright are the windows of Night in her tower._ **

****

**_Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!_ **

**_Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!_ **

**_The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;_ **

**_Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting._ **

****

**_Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!_ **

**_Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!_ **

**_The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!_ **

**_Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!_ **

**_Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!_ **

**_Fall Moon! Dark be the land!_ **

**_Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!_ **

**_Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!”_ **

He recognized it. Reading the classic The Hobbit. The Elves lullaby. Finally shutting the light off she exits. Moving around him she makes her way to the living room. Looking one last time he follows.

Jane looks at him. He is really here. She had dreamed so much that he had come back. Came back to her for her.

“Elves Lullaby.” She nods.

“I read it to him when I was pregnant. It was beautiful and I thought I need a tradition. Since my family lost most and yours well.” She won’t go there but he understood the heavy hand on his mother. “And since I was alone I had time on my hands. I read the whole series then did Harry Potter.”

“Really,” doing a dead on impression of Snape. “I’m sorry.” She looks away. Looks to the corner of toys. He sits down beside her. Sherlock just taking her in. Then she looks at him. Quickly moving in they kiss.

“Sorry,” she begins.

“Sorry, that was,” Sherlock started then stopped. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you. I had to keep you safe.”

“Well you are the one who missed out. Promise me,” he looks at her. She stares at him, hard.

“Promise?” She grabs his hand threading it through his.

“Promise you will never leave me, leave us.”

“You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met.”

“Even before thee woman?” Sherlock looks to the other room where their son sleep.

“The woman would have never given me such a gift. Nor would she of waited for me.”

“I didn’t wait. You were dead and I had a kid to raise.” He nods.

“Yes, but.. I make a vow that I will never do it again. You have my word.”

“Thank you.” She rests along the couch. Sherlock sits back but then pulls her toward him. Feeling like old times but everything is new. Sherlock watches her drift off.

“Why did you name him Hugo?”

“Because of what it means.” She snuggles in closer to him.

“Enlighten me.” Her arm wraps tighter around him. Afraid if she let go he would fall away.

“Heart and mind. It’s us.”

“And I will be here. Promise.”

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

The end

 

**/Te Amo: Hugo/**

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is done. 2/5/2014


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